Sunset Rivalry: The Caliendo Resort (By The Lake: The Caliendo Resort Book 2) (15 page)

“Love doesn’t blind me.”

She didn’t believe him. “Whatever you’re searching for has.” Anya sighed. “Just forget it Quinn.” She took a deep breath. “I need that file to fix a woman’s life. You need the file to hopefully fix yours. Let’s just stay focused on that goal. That’s all you want anyway.”

She was the instigator, endlessly bringing their past into the present and trying to scheme a future. He wanted nothing.

Anya walked away, clearing his arm’s reach. She didn’t want him to stop her and apologize for not being able to be together. She was tired of his apologies.

QUINN DIDN’T SLEEP worth a shit. The few times he fell asleep, he was jerked right back out by Anya’s lingering words mixed with his brother telling him to put an end to this battle. He found himself lost in a pit of doom.

This file
did
control his life. It
had,
in a way, ruined his life or any possible future with Anya. All because he had let it.

No. It was for his dad and sister.
And to help all the people Robert had shattered.

He asked himself what he would tell his brother to do if the shoe were on the other foot, but Quinn couldn’t think of a good answer.

He spent most of the night lying awake on the guest bed. How could he settle down enough to sleep when the whole room smelled like her? He spent the remainder of the night wandering around Anya’s suite and checking the empty pool room. For what? He didn’t know...a distraction? He was mentally kicking his big mouth. Maybe if the boot-kicking was verbal he would feel confident enough not to have another slip up.

Why the hell had he gone and told Anya that he was in love with her only to contradict their future? It was selfish.

As the hours ticked by, and the early sun peeked up from the south, he grew angrier with himself, his dad, and with Robert.

The more Quinn tried to wrap his mind around it, the more frustrated he became. By the time Anya opened her bedroom door, he was ready to explode.

He wanted to pull her into his embrace and promise her they could be together and everything would be fine. At the same time he wanted to yell at her that nothing would be all right ever again. He did neither.

Anya had showered and her pink summer dress swayed with her hips as she walked down the hall.

Her stare was cold.

His stare was hard.

Anya spoke first. “We have breakfast with my family this morning. Do you think you can continue with this charade which you’ve cornered us? Or is that sneer going to remain on your face all through the meal?”

“Good morning to you, too.”

Anya poured herself a coffee. “A good morning would have entailed your absence.”

She glared at him again.

“Oh, but the file keeps you here,” Anya said. “The precious relationship-killing file.”

She rolled her eyes and walked to the french doors. “Be ready in ten minutes,” she called over her shoulder. “You look like a sack of shit.” The door slammed behind her.

Quinn stomped into the guest bathroom and turned on the cold water. That woman would be the death of him, not the bloody file. She aroused him and made want to strangle her at the same time. But mostly he just wanted her.

He scrubbed his body hard like he had the night before. Only this time it wasn’t to wipe away the mud, but instead the building up frustration that was going to be the end of him.

***

ANYA SNEERED AS Quinn joked with her family like he was part of them. He was a fake. A liar. A sexy little hell-demon set in her path to elude her from her own goals.

She was in love with him too. But now the possibility that there was another woman in his life presented itself and the reality stung.

Damn it. Damn him. Damn her father!

She stabbed her eggs with a fork and listened to it squeal across the plate.

“Is something bothering you?” Emma whispered.

Anya looked up suddenly, not realizing anyone had noticed her mood. “No,” was her immediate lie. She was a liar. She was a fake too.

“You’re not a good liar,” her sister said, only half teasing, nudging her side.

Anya dropped her eyes back to her meal. She better snap out of her sulky disposition before she’d become the one drawing suspicion.

Taking a deep breath, she abandoned her food and enjoyed another mouthful of coffee, attempting to concentrate on the conversation around the table. She’d missed the entire beginning of the conversation, but as she listened she caught on quickly that the discussion revolved around a cruise ship they were interested in investing in.

A cruise ship? Really?

Anya groaned inwardly. That was noticeably larger than a yacht. How Quinn would be enjoying this topic.

She stole a glance at him, but he didn’t even notice her. His glance went back and forth to each family member like he was part of the decision making. He didn’t notice her or he was ignoring her. She could ignore him just as easily.
Liar.
At least she could
try
and pretend.

Marc was explaining the logistics to Quinn and smiled at Anya when he caught her paying interest. His gaze went back and forth between the two newcomers as he spoke.

“We want to invest in the Cohen cruise line and incorporate cruises with nine to twenty-nine-day cruises where they spend part of their trip on the boat and the rest at one of our resorts along the coastline,” Marc explained. “Right now the cruises only travel on water with no stops. Onshore stops will bring a new group of customers for both the Caliendos and the Cohen enterprises.”

“Brock Cohen owns the Cohen Cruises,” Anya explained to Quinn. She knew Brock and his son Grayson from the galas her mother hosted. If she remembered correctly, Brock brought a different woman to each gala and had been divorced more than a dozen times. He liked his women young...usually models. Ryder’s playboy image had nothing on Brock Cohen’s.

“Brock’s bother, Tom, and Brock’s son, Grayson, own part of the company too,” Marc informed her.

“Yup,” Izzy scoffed. “A whole line of Cohen womanizers cruising around with a new batch of drooling single ladies they can flaunt their status in front of.”

Stifled laughs and the clearing of throats moved around the table, proving to Anya how much her family had changed in the last two years, and for the better.

In the presence of Robert they had been expected to guard what and who they discussed. It was a show designed by Robert to display the ideal life they lived...even if it had been far from perfect.

As Anya watched them now, the unnerving edge was removed from her family’s interaction and they spoke without apprehension.

“Izzy,” Emma scolded. “You have no idea what is going on with the Cohens and it’s rude to make unsupported accusations.”

“I would think they’re supported with the many women Brock and Grayson have been seen with.”

“Assumptions,” Emma said.

“Is there a reason you say assumptions?” Izzy asked, digging for trouble. “Is there a little something going on between you and a Cohen you want to share?”

“No,” Emma said sternly.

“No there’s not something going or no you don’t want to share the something that’s going on?”

“Is there conflict between you and Grayson?” Marc inquired. Anya could see it was regarding the business deal they were discussing.

“No,” Emma answered.

“Emma, loosen up. Are you going to be a killjoy the entire trip?”

“Where are you going?” Anya asked.

Izzy whistled. “Marc booked us reservations on the cruise ship next month. That spells vay-ca-tion.”

Marc cleared his throat. “It’s work Izzy, not a vacation. I reserved you the spots so you could analyze the cruise ship, its activities, its staff, before we invest our money... And I reserved you and Emma the spots.” He shook his head. “How Abby and Melissa ended up on the cruise...”

“We will be doing exactly that...with margaritas in our hands.” Izzy waggled her eyebrows at Emma. “So much fun, right sister?”

“A sober perspective would be more useful than a drunken one,” Marc scoffed.

Carl chuckled and Eliza nudged him.

“It’s all inclusive,” Izzy said as if Marc wasn’t understanding. “Besides Emma’s opinion will be biased since she’s all hot for Brock Cohen.”

Emma choked.

People gasped, turning their attention to her, but she said nothing, concentrating on downing a glass of water.

“He’s a silver fox” Izzy said with a quick intake of breath and a lick of her lips. “And he had his eyes on Emma at the Snowflake Ball this past winter.”

Emma shook her head and glared at Izzy. “What are you talking about?”

“This sounds like conflict,” Marc observed looking serious.

“I assure you that I am not interested in Mr. Cohen or vice versa. Izzy is getting you all riled up over nothing.” Emma looked at her sister. “Probably just to watch you squirm. She gets pleasure out of other people’s discomfort.”

“Oh, simmer down,” Izzy said. “A sexual appetite is good.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kate said placing her hands over Rosemary’s ears. “She is not the only set of young ears,” she hissed at Izzy, referring to Sophia and Parker who were currently at the buffet refilling their plates.

Brock was old enough to be Emma’s father, so it was good she wasn’t interested. But Mr. Cohen Sr. liked his women half his age, or younger...much, much younger.

Izzy didn’t break her eye contact. “He went back to Emma’s suite...” she said.

Kate groaned.

“Izzy!” Emma said.

“I love it at Aunt Emma’s suite,” Rosemary said. “She always has candy just for me.”

“That’s a whole other conversation,” Marc said.

“Hey sweetie, can you go get me some more fruit,” Kate said.

Rosemary left and Kate turned to the table. “And resume...” She waved her hands to encourage the continuation of a conversation that had Emma’s face flushing pink.

“This is my money too we are investing. I mean if you slept with the potential partner we should know,” Izzy said.

A musical of groans went around the table, but her family couldn’t hide their concern.

Anya stole a glance at Quinn as this disaster started to unfold. Her eyes darted around too, as if looking for the cameras that would make her family top-rated reality stars and to see who was within listening range. More likely the latter, but she smiled at the thought of watching this play out on the big screen.

The family was tucked in the back corner of the bright all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. Short stone walls and green foliage provided the family with privacy. Besides, the guests were too busy yawning, just waking up with their coffee.

Quinn leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and lips thin. When he looked at Anya she could see him holding in a smirk.

How embarrassing. Not only was her family on the verge of investing in cruise ships, they were also laying out their dirty laundry. Maybe her dad had the right idea: a time and a place for certain conversations. This conversation was headed to a whole new level of crazy.

“I did not sleep with Grayson’s dad, if that’s what you’re insinuating Izzy.” Emma clarified, looking insulted and enraged.

Izzy gasped. “Ohhh, did you hear that? The way she said
Grayson
...Did you sleep with Grayson?”

“I am not explaining something that doesn’t need explaining just so you have some juicy gossip,” Emma snapped at her younger sister.

“So there
are
juicy details.” Izzy licked her lips.

“Alright,” their mother intervened. “Emma, is there any reason you shouldn’t be going on the cruise?”

“No.”

Eliza flashed a gorgeous white smile. “That’s settled.” Gracefully, she easily moved onto the next topic: the secret garden gala that evening.

Quinn leaned in, resting his elbows on the table and turned his head to Anya. “A cruise line,” he whispered.

He couldn’t just let it slide? No, he had to flaunt her money in her face. Money wasn’t everything. It couldn’t buy love, in fact, it would seem like her money was chasing the one person she wanted away.

“Jealous, cowboy?”

Anya didn’t wait for his response, turning to Emma and leaning in. “Didn’t you and Grayson sort of hit it off at one of Mom’s galas before I left?” she asked.

Emma slanted a look at her. “I don’t want a thing to do with either of those Cohen men,” she said.

Anya smirked at her. “You’re not a very good liar.”

She nudged her sister’s side just as she’d done earlier and watched Emma shake her head, but the corners of her mouth went against her irritation and rose. It seemed like a lot of that was going around. Humor trumping irritation.

Anya found herself looking at Quinn. He was always trying to put humor in their bad situation. It was funny because she didn’t remember him being such a comedian all those years ago. But how much of him had she really known anyway?